Thursday, July 30, 2026

Queen Elizabeth I’s missing banqueting house

 

 


“So little has remained for us today of these ephemeral places.

We have a few – like the one at Hampton Court, the one at Melford Hall in Suffolk”.

Janet Wertman

 

 

This is a companion to my (Damien Mackey’s) article:

 

Henry VIII’s palaces missing

(5) Henry VIII’s palaces missing

 

Tudor Banqueting Houses - Then AND NOW (!) - Janet Wertman

Tudor Banqueting Houses – Then AND NOW (!)

Published by janetwertman on May 18, 2019

 

A banqueting house was a “separate pavilion-like building reached through the gardens from the main residence.” They became very popular during the Tudor era – even memorialized by Henry VIII in fanciful structures at Hampton Court and Nonsuch Palaces. But most of the time, they were temporary – tents atop platforms (lavish tents atop massive platforms to be sure!).

 

We have extensive details of royal tents from reports and paintings of the Field of the Cloth of Gold and its fabulous array of golden pavilions. We also have a wonderful description of the temporary banqueting house that Elizabeth built at Whitehall in 1581 ahead of negotiations for her potential marriage to the Duc of Alencon. The 332-foot-long structure, which took almost 400 people a little over three weeks to build, was held up with 30 masts; its canvas walls were painted to look like stone; its roof was painted with stars, clouds and sunbeams to look like the sky and the insides were decorated with “292 glass lights… and… all manner of strang[e] flowers… garnished with spangs of gould [and fruits like] pomegarnetts, orrnges, pompions, cowcumbers, grapes, carettes, peas and such like”. The structure lasted for 25 years – and then James VI built a more permanent building that we can (and do!) still visit today.

 

Courtiers, too, built these structures – especially in the “prodigy houses” that Wikipedia defines as “large and showy English country houses built by courtiers and other wealthy families, either ‘noble palaces of an awesome scale’ or ‘proud, ambitious heaps’ according to taste.” They also note that many of the grandest “were built with a view to housing Elizabeth I and her large retinue as they made their annual royal progress around her realm.”

 

So little has remained for us today of these ephemeral places. We have a few – like the one at Hampton Court, the one at Melford Hall in Suffolk. We might be about to have another.

 

There is a grassy hump in the Sudeley Castle grounds that went ignored for more than 400 years…and that is now believed to cover the remains of the banqueting house built to in 1592 to welcome Elizabeth and her retinue who came for a three-day celebration of the fourth anniversary of the victory over the Spanish Armada.

 

Sudeley has crowdfunded a dig that begins on Monday (May 21) and runs through June 2 …. DigVentures, who’s running the project, is planning on uploading photos and videos from the dig team, as well as interactive 3D models of the trenches. They will also be adding details of all the artifacts, layers and discoveries they make, and they’ve created communities on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. The best part: according to Maiya Pina-Dacier, their Head of Community, if the wifi signal is good enough they even hope to do a livestream video (everybody start crossing your fingers now). ….

 

“… start crossing your fingers now”.

 

And at: Search for the Banqueting Hall of Queen Elizabeth I part 1.pdf

we read:

 

Travel Tales

 

The Search for the Missing Banqueting Hall and Tudor Garden

of Queen Elizabeth I – Part 1

 

by Lew Toulmin

 

In the summer of 1592, Queen Elizabeth I and her very large retinue of courtiers arrived at Sudeley Castle, a magnificent structure in the Cotswolds, in Gloucestershire, southwest England. The official goal of this visit was to celebrate the fourth anniversary of England’s defeat of the Spanish Armada, and to honor Giles Brydges, 3rd Baron Chandos, owner of the Castle. But a possible secondary goal was to force Chandos, whose formerly Catholic family had previously been given the Castle by Catholic Queen “Bloody Mary,” to spend so much money on entertaining his guests, that he would have no resources left to resist Elizabeth’s rule!

 

Elizabeth may have also sought some revenge against the Chandos family and enjoyed forcing him to pay her homage, since Chandos’ grandfather (1st Baron Chandos) had been Elizabeth’s jailer for a short time at the Tower of London, when he was the Lord Lieutenant (the commander) of the Tower and she was incarcerated there.

 

The highlight of the lengthy royal visit to Sudeley Castle was an epic three-day party, probably one of the largest and most expensive in British history. The event involved jousting, bear and bull baiting, dancing, singing, a specially commissioned play, a pageant, mummers, and of course lots of feasting and drinking. The party was held in a temporary Banqueting Hall.

 

There is no historical description available of the Sudeley banqueting hall, but there is a description of a likely similar temporary banqueting structure built at Whitehall in London in 1581, as part of Elizabeth’s marriage negotiations with the Duc d’Alencon. (She was 48 and he was 26 at the time.) This structure took 375 laborers 3 weeks and 3 days to build (i.e., about 9000 person-days!). It was 332 feet long, held up by 30 masts, made of canvas painted to look like stone, and the ceiling was painted with stars, clouds and sunbeams to look like the sky. The inside was decorated with “292 glass lights…and all manner of strange flowers…garnished with spangs of gould…and fruits like pomegarnetts, orrnges, pompions, cowcumbers, grapes, carettes, peas and such like.” (sic!)

 

Temporary structures like this were meant to impress the common folk, convey the notion of the divine right of kings to rule, and allow the monarch to slowly progress around the kingdom. They played a major role in the famous 1520 event The Field of the Cloth of Gold at Calais -- the famous meeting between Henry VIII and Francis I, King of France. But because of their temporary nature, relatively little hard information on them is available via historical documents, paintings or archaeology.

 

Historians and experts at Sudeley wanted to find the site of the banqueting hall, but had no success until they noticed a large, lumpy, unused field in the area east of the Castle, in an area first thought to be an old Saxon manor house, but then suspected of being a buried Tudor Garden.

 

Beginning in the early 16th century, Tudor Gardens became important places to entertain, feast, and display new-found wealth and power.

(Previously gardens had been small private affairs.) During the reign of Elizabeth, this trend accelerated, and gardens filled with exotic plants and designs became even more elaborate, due to her love of display and clever use of design, fashion and architecture for political messaging. Nobles vied to build ever more elaborate gardens, to lure Elizabeth to visit. Such gardens could include private areas where political scheming could not be overheard, rosemary bushes shimmering with gold leaf, fountains, statues, and “bridges magically brimming with wine.”

 

Because of the transitory nature of gardens, and the destruction of almost all Tudor Gardens during the later open landscaping craze led by Capability Brown, there is only one other likely Tudor Garden in Britain.

 

Hence the possibility of identifying, mapping, and studying a previously unknown one is very exciting for historians and landscape architects. And with modern plant micro-identification and paleo-environmental techniques, it may be possible to identify some of the exact plants used in these exotic displays.

 

Sudeley Castle General Manager Wendy Walton stated that, “Finding an intact Tudor garden like this is an astonishingly rare occurrence. Bringing it back to the surface would be an amazing achievement, and would give us the chance to find out what it would have been like in the days when Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth I and Katherine Parr, Henry VIII’s last wife, walked its pathways.” ….

 

***

 

Queen Elizabeth I like an Old Testament character

 


 



by

Damien F. Mackey

  

 

Compared to Judith and Esther,

she was a new Moses and as wise as King Solomon.

 

 

Susan Doran writes in the Abstract to her 2010 chapter, pp 95–110:

Elizabeth I: An Old Testament King”:

Elizabeth I: An Old Testament King | Springer Nature Link

 

Representations of Elizabeth as the Old Testament heroines, Deborah, Esther, Jael, and Judith, have been widely explored, thanks to the pioneering work of Professor John King.1 It is now well understood how these biblical figures were used both to counter attacks on the legitimacy of female rule and to provide exemplars of godly conduct to a Protestant queen. Much less fully appreciated, I think, is the extent and variety of associations made between Elizabeth and a long line of male prophets, judges, and kings in the Hebrew Bible: David, Gideon, Elias, Hezekiah, Joseph, Joshua, Josiah, Moses, Saul, Solomon, and more besides.2 Scholars, moreover, seem not to have noticed that while biblical women tended to drop out of the contemporary literature after Thomas Bentley’s Monument of Matrones in 1582, Protestant writers, preachers, and politicians continued to draw between Elizabeth I and male biblical parallels between Elizabeth I and male biblical figures—especially David and Solomon—until the queen’s death.3

 

And, according to this article:

http://www.ibrarian.net/navon/paper/The_Development_of_the_Cult_of_Elizabet

 

On one … of the first portraits of [Elizabeth I] as a queen she appears in a religious context, she washes the feet of twelve poor women at a Maundy ceremony.

….

On the title-pages of the different editions of the Bible Elizabeth’s figure appears: she is surrounded by the four cardinal virtues on the 1569 edition, while on the 1568 edition between the figures of Faith and Love she personifies the third New Testament virtue, Hope.

 

At the beginning of the Coronation Entry as she left the Tower she praised God for her deliverance from prison during the reign of Mary and compared herself to the prophet Daniel spared by God by special providence: “I acknowledge that Thou hast dealt as wonderfully and as mercifully with me as Thou didst with Thy true and faithful servant Daniel, Thy prophet, whom Thou deliverest out of the den from the cruelty of the greedy and raging lions. Even so was I overwhelmed and only by Thee delivered.” ….

 

During the first decade Elizabeth was mostly compared to figures of the Old Testament. In the fifth pageant of the Coronation Entry she appeared as Deborah, the Old Testament judge, listening to the advice of three figures representing the three estates of England, the clergy, the nobility and the commons.  ….

 

Elizabeth as Judith

 

In sermons she was compared to Judith who rescued her people, and to Esther who interceded for her people. …. She was seen also as a new Moses leading his people out of the captivity of Egypt, and as Solomon the wise king.

 

Taken from: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/rest.12258

 

Elizabeth I as Judith: reassessing the

apocryphal widow’s appearance in

Elizabethan royal iconography

 

…. Historians and literary scholars have long noted and analysed the appearance of biblical analogies as part of Tudor and Stuart royal iconography.

 

Using the example of a biblical figure, monarchs demonstrated the divine precedent for their decisions, and subjects in turn could counsel their monarch to emulate the actions of a divinely favoured biblical figure. Queen Elizabeth I of England was the subject of the greatest number of biblical analogies drawn in the early modern period: analogies were drawn both by apologists and by Elizabeth herself throughout the entire span of the queen’s reign, and for almost a century after her death. …. Elizabeth’s comparisons with Deborah the Judge, Queen Esther, Daniel the Prophet, King Solomon, and King David have all received varying levels of attention in the existing scholarship: but the analogy to Judith, the chaste widow of the Apocrypha, has generally escaped detailed analysis. ….

 

Judith was invoked in various ways throughout Elizabeth’s reign, and the diverse analogies reflect the changing religio-political climate of the time. This article offers a re-examination of the comparisons drawn between Elizabeth and Judith during the queen’s life. In doing so, I argue that contrary to claims in some of the existing scholarship, Judith was routinely and consistently offered to Elizabeth as biblical precedent for dealing with Roman Catholics – with violence, not just diplomatic rhetoric – and for the providential sanctioning of female rule; and that Elizabeth, in drawing the parallel to Judith herself, inserted her own voice into these debates. ….

 

Judith’s story can be found in the eponymous book of the Apocrypha.

 

A prophecy was brought, foretelling that Bethulia, Judith’s city, would be lost to the invading Assyrians because of the Jews’ disobedience. Judith attempted to prevent this happening, and prayed to God that he would give her a ‘sworde to take vengeance of the [invading] strangers’. …. She and her handmaiden allowed themselves to be captured by the Assyrians, claiming that they had deserted. The Assyrians took her to Holofernes, the General of the Army. Judith lied to Holofernes that God had forsaken the Jews because they ate his offerings before the requisite time had past, and that he would not defend them until the sacrifices were re-offered, which would take many days to organize. Holofernes was pleased with this news, and allowed Judith to stay in the camp. On the fourth night at the camp, after a banquet, Holofernes passed out, drunk. His servants left the tent, and Judith remained inside, alone. She picked up Holofernes’ sword, grasped his hair, prayed, ‘Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, this day,’ and then ‘shee smote twise upon his necke with all her might, and she took away his head from him.’

 

…. She stowed the head in her handmaiden’s bag, and the two left the camp. She returned to Bethulia, and showed the head, saying, ‘Beholde the head of Holofernes the chiefe captaine of the army of Assur . . . the Lord hath smitten him by the hand of a woman.’ …. Without their general, the Assyrian army fell into disarray, and the attack was abandoned.

 

In the existing scholarship, the most comprehensive study of Elizabeth as Judith remains England’s Eliza, by Elkin Calhoun Wilson. The first chapter of Wilson’s book is called ‘Judith in the Broadsides’, which, despite its title, focuses on ‘the concept of Gloriana taking form’ throughout Elizabethan literature, including pamphlets and dramatic productions. ….

 

Rather than systematically analysing Elizabeth as Judith, Wilson used the concept of the widow Judith – the chaste, God-fearing woman who saved her people – and attempted to trace this theme in depictions of the queen. Wilson ends his discussion of Judith, however, by noting the familiarity the English felt for Judith: ‘in the study of Elizabeth idealized as Elisa [sic], Diana, and Gloriana, it is always to be remembered that the Judith . . . is an elder cockney cousin of these court ladies; in her homely style she testifies to their honest English stock.’ ….

 

John N. King’s study of Tudor iconography remains the key work that argues for Judith’s potency and longevity. King observes that, ‘Judith, in her victory over Holofernes (now considered a type for militant Catholicism) . . . embodies triumphal power conventionally relegated to kings.’ …. By arguing that Judith’s gender did not prevent her from saving the Israelites, Elizabeth’s apologists were able to assert that God’s defence of England would continue, even with a female king on the throne. …. The analogy to Judith thus asserted Elizabeth’s position as England’s providential monarch, who would be given the necessary strength by God to overcome England’s enemies.

 

While I do not argue that Elizabeth was the first English monarch to be paralleled with Judith … the examples assembled here demonstrate that Elizabeth was both the first monarch to be compared to Judith in a sustained and systematic way for religio-political purposes, and also the first monarch to affirm the analogy in her own words. The importance of these two facts is often sidelined in the scholarship that does discuss the Judith analogy. Helen Hackett’s study of Elizabeth and the cult of the Virgin Mary is excellent, but dismisses Judith’s longevity by claiming, ‘biblical heroines like Deborah and Judith dominated early Elizabethan royal iconography.’ ….

 

The Victorian era, in which the Tudors were utterly lionised as perfect “Englishmen”, had no small difficulty, though, fitting in to their a priori view of things the unusual Elizabeth, who never married, nor (presumably) had children.

And similarly have scholars had trouble with Judith. For, as I wrote in my (2007) thesis (Volume Two, pp. 75-76):

 

The Heroine’s Character

 

Moore has, in a section of this same title, “The Heroine’s Character”, written perceptively:[1]

 

In commenting on Judith’s character and conduct, scholars have often said, in effect, as much about themselves as about Judith. For example, at a time when Christians found themselves mortally threatened by pagan persecutions, scholars like Clement of Rome [C1st AD] saw Judith as a brave and godly woman ….

 

Later, in the days when religious persecutions were not so much a threat to the Church Fathers as sexual temptations to a celibate priesthood, such theologians as Tertullian [c. 200 AD], Methodius of Tyre [C3rd], and Ambrose of Milan [C4th] … praised Judith highly, not so much for her courageous assassination of Holofernes as for her self-imposed celibacy ….

The values and priorities of a Victorian England, with its patronizing and protective attitude towards “the fairer sex”, are well exemplified in the observations of Edwin Cone Bissell, writing in 1886:

 

The character [of Judith] is not simply objectionable from a literary point of view, but even more from a moral stand-point … Her way is strewn with deception from first to last, and yet she is represented as taking God into her counsels and as having his special blessing in her enterprise … she assents to his [i.e., Holofernes’] request to take part in a carousal at his tent and to spend a night in his embrace ….

Although the women’s movement is recent, it has already provided some new insights and radically different perspectives on Judith. According to Patricia Montley … Judith is the archetypal androgyne. She is more than the Warrior Woman and the femme fatale, a combination of the soldier and the seductress …

 

Just as the brilliance of a cut diamond is the result of many different facets, so the striking appeal of the book of Judith results from its many facets. ….

[End of quotes]

 

Stocker will, in her comprehensive treatment of the Judith character and her actions, compare the heroine to, amongst others, the Old Testament’s Jael[2] – a common comparison given that the woman, Jael, had driven a tent peg through the temple of Sisera, an enemy of Israel (Judges 4:17-22) – Joan of Arc (as already alluded to), and Charlotte Corday, who had, during the French Revolution, beheaded the likewise unsuspecting Marat.[3] “If viewed negatively – from an irreligious perspective, for instance”, Stocker will go on to write,[4] “- Judith’s isolation, chastity, widowhood, childlessness, and murderousness would epitomize all that is morbid, nihilistic and abortive”. This, though, is not how her fellow Bethulians, and fellow Israelites, were to consider Judith, as we shall learn from their rapturous praise of her and her lasting fame. Craven, with reference to Ruskin,[5] writes: “Judith, the slayer of Holofernes; Jael, the slayer of Sisera; and Tomyris, the slayer of Cyrus are counted in art as the female “types” who prefigure the Virgin Mary’s triumph over Satan”. ….

 

 

 

 

 



[1] Op. cit, pp. 64-65.

[2] Op. cit, e.g. pp. 13-15.

[3] Ibid, pp. 111-119.

[4] Ibid, p. 173.

[5] Op. cit, p. 95, with reference to J. Ruskin’s ‘Mornings in Florence’, p. 335.

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Apostle James Maior and Sir Thomas More

 

 


by

Damien F. Mackey

  

Then there is the name similarity, Thomas (through Tames to) James.

And the similarity of surname/epithet, More and Greater.

 I can enlarge upon this epithet now.

 James the Greater (as opposed to another Apostle, James the Lesser) is rendered

in Latin as Jacobus Maior. Now, Maior is uncannily like More – Thomas is More, but he is also close to being, like Saint James, a Greater.

 

By no means am I the first to have noticed the uncanny likenesses between King Herod and King Henry VIII. Thomas McGovern, for one, has, as well - as I noted at the start of my article:

Chewing over the House of Tudor

 (1) Chewing over the House of Tudor

 

Talk about parallel lives!

Herod Antipas and Henry VIII. John the Baptist and Bishop John Fisher.

This is astutely picked up by Thomas McGovern, in his article for Catholic Culture.org, “Bishop John Fisher: Defender of the Faith and Pastor of Souls”

https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?recnum=7604

….

 

Apart from this article, I have written others according to which ‘Tudor’ may be a somewhat problematical concept, or reality. For instance:

 

                                            Term ‘Tudor’ has become grossly distorting

(3) Term ‘Tudor’ has become grossly distorting

 

Horrible Histories: Turpitudinous Tudors

(4) Horrible Histories: Turpitudinous Tudors

 

Henry VIII’s palaces [are] missing

 (4) Henry VIII's palaces missing

 

Anne Boleyn ‘a Jezebel and harlot’

 (3) Anne Boleyn 'a Jezebel and harlot'

 

Some Herodian-Tudor parallels I had previously referred to are in the following piece, according to which Saint John Fisher was “the new John the Baptist”:

 

And I have just found something similar here from Dr. Taylor Marshall, Dean of Fisher More College in Fort Worth, Texas:

The Parallel between St John Fisher and St John the Baptist - Taylor Marshall

 

Saint John Fisher was born in Beverley, Yorkshire, England in 1469, the eldest son of Robert Fisher, a modestly prosperous merchant of Beverley, and Agnes Fisher. He was named after Saint John the Baptist.

He was the only bishop in England who faithfully defended the Pope against the adulterous tyranny of King Henry VIII. All the other English bishops apostatized. John Fisher, even more valiantly than Thomas More, defended the valid marriage of Henry to Catherine of Aragon and vehemently opposed Henry VIII’s assumption of the title “Supreme Head” of the English Church.

As early as 1530 Saint John Fisher began to preach that he was willing to die like Saint John the Baptist in defense of the sacrament of matrimony. You’ll remember that John the Baptist received martyrdom for protesting King Herod Antipas’ adulterous marriage to Herodias.

Henry VIII was the new Herod

Ann Boleyn was the new Herodias

John Fisher was the new John the Baptist

….

 

Can further parallels be adduced?

 

What about Saint Thomas More, the “Man For All Seasons”?

 

I already made a start on this in an additional article:

 

John Fisher and John Baptist parallels

 

(2) John Fisher and John Baptist parallels

 

The most obvious similarity between Thomas More and James the Greater

is the death by beheading (Acts 12:2) – that, at least, is how the Apostle James

is generally considered to have been killed.

 

And under the Herod-like Henry VIII.

 

Saint Thomas More

 

If John Fisher smacks of a new John the Baptist, then, to a lesser, not More, extent, but with reference to a Greater, Thomas More has some things in common with the Apostle, James the Greater.

 

The most obvious similarity between Thomas More and James the Greater is the death by beheading (Acts 12:2) – that, at least, is how the Apostle James is generally considered to have been killed.

 

And under the Herod-like Henry VIII (ref. to Dr. Taylor Marshall’s comparison above, “Henry VIII was the new Herod”).

 

Then there is the name similarity, Thomas (through Tames to) James.

And the similarity of surname/epithet, More and Greater.

 

I can enlarge upon this epithet now.

 

James the Greater (as opposed to another Apostle, James the Lesser) is rendered in Latin as Jacobus Maior. Now, Maior is uncannily like More – Thomas is More, but he is also close to being, like Saint James, a Greater. 

 

Thomas More was famous for his silence.

In “A Man for all seasons”, Cromwell remarks: “Now, Sir Thomas, you stand on your silence”.

Ironically, James 3:1-12 is all about taming the dangerous tongue.

 

For more on Sir Thomas More, see my article:

 

Parallel Lives - Thomas Becket and Thomas More

(3) Parallel Lives - Thomas Becket and Thomas More